Later, Lilian gently combed through Mereoleona's hair as she sat in front of her ornate vanity mirror. The young noblewoman's eyes moved across a small pile of opened letters on her desk—most of them invitations to tea parties or social gatherings hosted by other noble ladies.
With a sigh of annoyance, she casted Burn. A small flicker of flame danced at her fingertips and lit the letters one by one. They turned to ash before Lilian could stop her.
"Did you really have to burn them?" Lilian asked, carefully working through a tangle.
"They're all just fake smiles and shallow insults," Mereoleona said with a scoff, crossing her arms. "They just want to mock me or find something to gossip about. Why should I hand them the opportunity on a silver platter and visit them?"
Lilian said nothing, though her brow furrowed slightly, feeling worried.
